


The Things That Made You Live, Are Killing You

by ninathena



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ark AU, F/M, Totally Crushing On Cadet Bellamy, Young Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathena/pseuds/ninathena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven year old Clarke has a crush on Bellamy, after meeting him on the Ark. Things happen pretty canonically after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things That Made You Live, Are Killing You

**Author's Note:**

> Ark AU's are my weakness. Which is why I'm posting this, instead of using my time to work on my other fics lol. Was originally a one-shot but I'm thinking about writing more, because I'm incapable of leaving well enough, alone. Also, I love young Bellamy. He's kind of adorable, okay. Enjoy!

Her steps echoed as she ran across the metal floor, the sound reverberating through the empty hall. Running wasn’t allowed but, except for Wells, there was no one else here – and this was important. She was going to beat him once and for all, she could feel it. Her legs were longer, she was actually taller than him for once. If she ever had a chance, it was now.

Her mom told her she’d hit another growth spurt while they’d searched for some new clothes at the exchange. “My baby’s definitely growing up,” She’d said, with a sad smile, as she looked for longer pants for Clarke’s gangly legs and larger blouses to fit her daughter’s growing chest. It was all rather embarrassing, but it would all be worth it if she could beat Wells – just this once.

Their laughter mixed with the slapping of their feet against the floor, and for a moment she was afraid they’d get caught with all the noise they were making. With both her mother and his father on the Council, they were always well behaved… usually – racing through the halls of the Ark being one of the very few exceptions.

She looked over at her friend and saw that she was indeed ahead of him, though not by much. This was it and she knew it’d definitely happen this time – she was going to win. The thought made her speed up, making the loose strands of her hair fly behind her and she suddenly recalled a passage from a book she’d read.

_‘Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind. Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exultation. Suddenly, you know you are alive.’_

She closed her eyes, imagining the recycled air around her was indeed the crisp wind whipping cool and fast against her skin. She hoped one day she could feel it, hoped one day they _all_ could.

She was dreaming of cool wind and green grass, when she suddenly slammed into something solid and unmoving. The force of the impact had her falling backwards, but before she crashed onto the floor, something caught her by the arms. Her eyes flew open but she was so dazed she couldn’t see anything.

“Hey,” a voice said, softly.

Her vision came back and she realized she hadn’t run into some _thing_ but some _one_. The first thing she noticed were his eyes. They were dark brown, and so deep she thought if she stared too long she might just fall into them. His attractive face was strewn with freckles and his skin had an olive complexion – she wondered if she touched it, if it would be as warm as it looked, but then she felt the warmth of his hands seep through the sleeves of her blouse and she already knew the answer.

Her fingers itched to put charcoal or pencil – or even crayon – to paper, and draw the sharp lines of his jaw and the softness of his full lips.

“You okay?” His voice was gentle but deep and it woke her from her haze. He wore a black uniform– a guards uniform, she realized with panic. She calmed when she saw that he didn’t seem angry, only worried – bent over with his hands holding onto her skinny arms firmly, in case she were to fall again, his thumb rubbing her soothingly, and his soft eyes checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine,” she finally answered.

He grinned and began searching his pocket, taking out a grey piece of cloth before crouching down in front of her. He brought the small cloth to her eyebrow, making her hiss in pain as she snapped her head away.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, grin still on his face.

He held out the cloth and she looked at the blood in confusion. He huffed out a gentle laugh and softly rapped his knuckles against the hard plate of his guards vest. “Good for stopping sharp objects,” he explain, then lifted his brows, “and little girls.”

“I’m not little,” she said, sharply, meeting his eyes. She took the cloth from his hand and place it on the burning cut. “I’ll be twelve soon.”

His grin grew into a full blown smile as he looked down, nodding at the floor. “Not so little then.” He licked his lips and she watched in fascination.

“And how old are _you_?”

She looked up from his lips and noticed that his eyes were focused to her right, and she turned her head to see Wells standing just behind her – she had all but forgotten about him after running into this stranger.

“Eleven,” her friend answered.

The guard pressed his lips together, nodding again, looking between her and Wells.

“So, you’re both old enough to know you’re not supposed to be in here. They’re about to seal off this sector for repairs.”

She opened her mouth to answer but Wells beat her to it.

“It was my idea. I told Clarke we should come this way.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “It was both of our ideas. He wanted to race, and I wanted to beat him.”

The guard chuckled. “Did you?”

Clarke crossed her arms, giving him an annoyed look. “I don’t know, you were in my way.”

He lifted his brows. “Doing my job, princess,” he said sternly – though it didn’t really work with the amused look on his face he seemed unable to hide.

She looked down anyways, embarrassed by her outburst. She _was_ the one in the wrong, after all.

He sighed before he finally stood. “Well, I should get you two out of here.”

Clarke felt a longing deep in her chest – she didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to stay with him, talk to him, make him smile again because she loved how it lit up his whole face.

She realized how silly it was. Why would a man like him want to spend time with a little girl like her? She amused him for the moment, but eventually he’d rather be around people his own age. At that thought, she wondered just how old he was.

She looked up at his handsome face as he placed his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her back in the direction she had come – with Wells following on her other side. She studied him discreetly as the three of them walked in silence. She would guess at least sixteen, but if he was a guard he would have to be at least twenty-two? Twenty-three?

They were nearing the end of the hall and she felt the loneliness of separating from him creep up within her. Why did she suddenly feel so attached to him?

She flinched as the radio on his belt came to life, filling the quiet hall with static and a disembodied voice.

_“Cadet Blake? Come in, Cadet Blake.”_

He continued to walk, his hand still leading her gently by the shoulder as he pulled out the radio. “This is, Blake.”

 _“Have you finished the sweep in sector four yet?”_ The voice sounded annoyed.

The guard- _cadet_ , she reminded herself… _Blake_ … sighed again as he rolled his eyes. “I’m on it,” he answered back, to the man over the radio.

_“What the hell is taking you so long?”_

Her eyes went wide and her stomach dropped, thinking that she may have gotten him into trouble.

She watched as his jaw clenched, and she had the sudden urge to take hold of the hand that he rested on her shoulder.

 _“You’ve been up there for nearly twenty minutes Blake, it’s either clear or it’s not_ ,” the voice reprimanded.

He scowled before lifting the radio to his mouth. “I said, I’m _on_ it,” he stated firmly.

They finally got to the doors and she could hear the throng of people on the other side. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. All she knew was she was suddenly desperate to stay with him. She saw the anger on his face as he lifted his hand to the keypad.

_I should apologize for getting him into trouble._

But the moment passed, and the doors opened, and the real world entered their quiet haven.

“You two can make it back from here, right?” he asked without looking at them.

Wells took Clarke’s hand and answered in the affirmative, before dragging her away through the crowd. She turned her head, trying to see him between all the people. He was facing the door, sealing it, it looked like, before talking into his radio again.

His shoulders seemed to bear some sort of invisible weight, and his eyes were full of dejection as they turned to scan the crowd. In that moment he just seemed so… _lonely_ , and she knew she couldn’t leave him like that.

She broke away from Wells and pushed her way through the crowd. She heard her friend call her name from somewhere behind, but she wouldn’t stop, not until she saw him smile one more time.

Trying to push her way through, she nearly collided into him again, before he grabbed her arms.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise before furrowing. “We need to stop meeting like this,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be going the other wa-“

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

His face softened and he shook his head in confusion.

“I’m sorry for getting you into trouble,” she explained.

He glanced at his feet before meeting her eyes. “It’s not your fault, princess,” he said, voice cracking. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did,” she replied, quickly. “So, thank you for not getting _us_ into trouble.”

His grin returned then, and she already felt lighter as she smiled back. He took a deep breath and released it, before finally bending over to look her straight in the eye.

He was so close she could feel his breath on her face, and it was warm. _Just like the rest of him._

“Just between you and me?” he whispered, his voice rough, sending shivers down her spine, while his nearness made her heart beat wildly in her chest. She was terrified that he could hear it pounding against her ribs.

He was waiting for a response, but her throat had gone dry and all she could do was nod her head.

“Sometimes, it’s okay to bend the rules.” He brought his hand up, with his thumb and pointer finger a fraction apart. “Just a little bit.”

Her smile slowly faded as she stared into his eyes. The world seemed to slow and everything around them seemed to disappear. “What’s your name?” she whispered. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked him that yet.

“Bellamy.”

_Bellamy Blake._

She bit her lip before quickly releasing it. “I’m Clarke… Griffin”

He suddenly smiled – a real one, with teeth and everything – as he nodded. “I know, princess.”

She couldn’t help it, she told herself later that night as she laid in her bed, replaying what happened over and over in her head. She just needed to touch him, feel his warm skin against her own – just once.

She quickly leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek.

She didn’t wait to see his reaction and instead swiftly turned, running in the direction where she had last seen Wells. Her face was burning, she could feel the heat coming off of it, and she knew she must’ve been flushed pink.

Embarrassment filled her belly, twisting it around, but it was also filled with something else, something that fluttered inside her and made her feel lighter as she rushed along. It was a feeling she’d try to remember as she sketched his beautiful face by lamplight late at night – a feeling she would wake up with and realize she’d been dreaming of him.

It was a feeling she hoped never faded.


End file.
